


Extinction

by livelovelaw



Category: Journey to Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: A lot of deaths, Dark, Dark Rey, Evil Rey, F/M, Good Ben Solo, Modern AU, Semi-Historical, War, a lot of nazi references but in the Star Wars universe, everything is reverse, not suitable for children
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 04:12:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16824898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livelovelaw/pseuds/livelovelaw
Summary: ‘Gifted’. ‘Chosen’. ‘Special’. These words brought nothing but demise to our kind. The Jedi, the people ‘chosen’ by the Force to fulfill its will, are now long gone. Exterminated and destroyed; annihilated by the peoples of the world only because they were afraid; because they did not understand our connection with the earth, its creatures and the universe; terrified of our abilities, of our so-called power to what…? Lift rocks, perhaps?It was a pathetic excuse for genocide.And the Jedi accepted such fate. They died treated as the public enemy; the enemy of all nations; the bringer of the apocalypse.Such irony because are we not the forth bringers of peace?We are, until we aren’t. Why would our people have to die so that the nations of the world would have peace?To those who survived, that peace has been out of the narrative. There can be no peace when you watched your neighbor burn inside his house. There is no peace when love ones are being torn apart from each other, killed and massacred in front of you. There can be no peace when the only family and home you have known is destroyed and annihilated.There is no peace. And there will never be.





	1. Chapter 1

**Prologue:** Extinction

In the beginning, there was nothing. The universe was nothing more than just a vacuum of emptiness; an endless void of darkness. And in that incessant abyss, time stood perfectly still. Nothing was created, neither was anything destroyed.

There was no life. There was no death.

There was just darkness.

But in an instant, there was everything. Billions of years ago, the universe expanded into something: Planets, stars, galaxies, light – life.

The men of today, with their hypotheses and theories, explain it as science. Men of God say it was creation. Call it science, call it divine; whatever explanation men and women conjure, one thing is always certain: There is always the Force.

And we, the Jedi, have always believed in the Force.

It would be difficult to explain as to what the Force truly is. Even the most archaic scriptures and writings never dealt with its origin. Only that

It is everywhere as it is nowhere.

It’s in the light of the day, and in the darkness of the night.

It is in good, as it is in evil.

It’s in you, as it is in me.

In the smallest of the critters, to the vast expanse of the galaxies.

The Force is life and life is the Force.

Truly difficult to comprehend, isn’t it? In truth, no amount of words can make a person fathom the magnitude of the Force’s existence.

You can only feel it.

Close your eyes, breathe deep. Feel your body. Feel your feet as it touches the soil, the life on it, and the death beneath it. Feel the wind, the air as it tickles your skin.

Touch someone: a family member; a stranger; a lover. Feel his life, his joy, his fears, his thoughts… such connection… feel his everything.

Let yourself feel the Force, and let the Force feel you.

Can you feel it? An indescribable sensation flowing through your veins?

No? Nothing?

Do not fret, you are not at fault. Nobody is at fault.

Unjust and unreasonable. If we had it our way, every person in this living earth should be able to feel the Force. That connection between a person and the Force is special. It is indescribable, it is surreal. It makes you know things; see things; do things. Things that to the unknowledgeable mind is more often than not described as sorcery. It makes one, for the lack of a better term and for an easy comprehension to those who cannot wield it, powerful. Power and dominion over all creatures, dead or living. Control over the forces of nature; command over the soul even after demise.

But then again, unjust and unreasonable. Not everyone was ‘gifted’ with strong connections with the Force; not everyone ‘chosen’ to be force-sensitive, and not everyone is ‘special’ like the Jedi.

Tch.

‘Gifted’. ‘Chosen’. ‘Special’. These words brought nothing but demise to our kind. The Jedi, the people ‘chosen’ by the Force to fulfill its will, are now long gone. Exterminated and destroyed; annihilated by the peoples of the world only because they were afraid; because they did not understand our connection with the earth, its creatures and the universe; terrified of our abilities, of our so-called power to what…? Lift rocks, perhaps? 

A pathetic justification for genocide, and the worst part is, it wasn’t even our fault. We did not choose to be this way. We are a peaceful people. Our existence was nothing more than that of the keepers of balance in this world. We do not exist for the sake of living, we are merely passing this earth as stewards of the universe, and yet they were so afraid; so terrified of our mere existence that they decided to end it.

And what did the Jedi do? Nothing. In the face of pogrom and the massacre, the Jedi decided to do nothing. Not even to use their abilities to kill what seemed to be their enemy. Neither did they try to defend themselves, nor even attempt to save innocent children from being butchered from being ripped from the bosoms of their mothers only to be struck by bayonets or swords, let alone be crushed by armed men.

Nothing would have saved the Jedi, and those who have helped them, had it worse. The Jedi and those who believed in the Force were nothing but vermin, a disease in the face of the world, a malignant tumor that must be removed through its roots, or else we, our race, would burn the world to its destruction.

And the Jedi accepted such fate. They died treated as the public enemy; the enemy of all nations; the bringer of the apocalypse.

Such irony because are we not the forth bringers of peace?

We are, until we aren’t. Why would our people have to die so that the nations of the world would have peace?

To those who survived, that peace has been out of the narrative. There can be no peace when you watched your neighbor burn inside his house. There is no peace when love ones are being torn apart from each other, killed and massacred in front of you. There can be no peace when the only family and home you have known is destroyed and annihilated.

There is no peace. And there will never be.


	2. Prophecy and Bullshit

**Chapter 1:** Prophecy and Bullshit

The world is about to end, thought Ben Solo as he traversed the quiet streets of Theed.

Theed, the capital of Naboo has always been a sunny city: a pretentious metropolis which, despite its usual bustle and hustle, cannot hide its meager origins. Just on the outskirts of the city, the luscious green, the dense swamps, the rolling grassy plains and its verdant hills are still apparent. Truly enough, the country, including the city itself, is heaven on earth. And for a man like Ben Solo, well, he's not here to complain.

Still, for the first time in months, the weather had been different. There was no forecasted storm, yet, nimbostratus clouds hovered ominously over the city. Claps of thunder echoed in the skies, rumbling and rolling like there was no end to it.

The world is going to end. He repeated once more in his now exhausted mind.

Pessimistic, too pessimistic for a man who just saved a life.

He is a doctor, a surgeon to be exact. He had been in Naboo Children's Hospital for as long as he can remember; in the confines of the four corners of an all-white room, clad in a blue scrub suit, doing his best to separate conjoined-twins - fraternal three year olds that had been joined along their scalps.

His team, especially the next-in-rank surgeon, Dr. Armitage Hux had been reluctant in the operation.

“Leave them be,” Dr. Hux suggested. “If you want the children to live, you will let them be.”

Logical; almost sympathetic in fact, coming especially from a man like Dr. Hux. True, the operation was not impossible. There were medical journals, studies and reports of a successful operation – the probability of success, however? One Percent (1%).

The children will live but having another person stuck in your scalp for the rest of your life, would you really call that living?

Once more, thunder rumbled in the skies, so loud, that it made the six-foot four doctor stop on his tracks to glance at the dark clouds, then to his surroundings; eyes gazing in at instant -- at the road, at the buildings, at anything. He did it out of instinct, for self-preservation, just to make sure, that he wasn't back in the sandy plains of Jakku, surrounded exploding bombs, gun fire, and bodies of the dead.

He shuddered, placing his palm across his face. He exhaled hard, before commanding his now frantic heartbeats to calm down.

He is in Naboo, not in Jakku.

He’s a doctor, not a soldier.

He just saved two children’s lives, he did not end it.

\-----------

_"It's okay. Don't be afraid."_

Fluorescent lights flashed, blinding her, waking her from that dream. She woke up with a sudden jolt; her eyes instantly wide and searching — searching for that person, as if he was in front of her. He was there; it would seem, in her reach once again. But then again he wasn’t. She realized that it was just another dream.

A dream or a nightmare? She can never really distinguish. She can only sigh under her breath, cussing at her subconscious. It’s been ten years. Ten long gruelling years and yet she still dreams of the same thing.

She gritted her teeth in anger for she has never forgotten, and will never will. Ten years ago, it had happened, and loathed the fact that it did.

"Having a sweet dream, Missus?" The old man beside her gave out a small chuckle.

She answered with a groan, her impatience already getting the best of her. Such a nosey old man, she thought. She should have just sliced this old man’s throat, after all, what she needed was only the vehicle and not its driver. But she kept things logical and practical. Killing the old truck driver who was kind enough to let her hitch a ride would be very impractical, not to mention inefficient. Random dead bodies would alert the police; the police getting involved means an investigation; and an investigation would, expose her (if they are smart enough and only if she was willing to take the risk). So no. No matter how annoying this old man is now, she should know better and not end his life.

"Are we there yet?" She mumbled instead, dialling down her irritation as she pretended to yawn and rub her eyes.

"Welcome to Theed." The old man excitedly said as he pointed at his rear view mirror.

The hitchhiker frowned as she glanced at the large green metal sign the old driver was pointing to:

Theed

Population: 800,000

She sighed once again. She had hoped that they wouldn’t reach the city for another day; to delay her task just for one day.

“A truly beautiful city. Peaceful too.” The old man smiled at her.

She merely blankly glanced at her driver, as if she never knew what his words meant. In reality, she didn’t know. Or she has already forgotten. Words such as beauty and peace have no meaning to her now. They’re just words; words for those who hoped; words for those who believed in happiness. And she couldn’t remember the last time she hoped, neither could she remember the last time she was happy.

“Whatcha gonna do here, missus?” The old man continued. “Visiting someone?”

She glanced at the window on her side, her eyes following the trees that passed by. She was already thinking of a way to end their useless conversation. There is no use in getting familiar, and yet she nodded in assent.

Indeed, she was ‘visiting’ someone.

Her nod was answered by a light chuckle. “I knew it. With them three-bun hairdo of yours, you playing it cute for yo man.” The old man said with enthusiasm. “What a lucky guy. He must be really happy.”

She opened her mouth to talk; to correct the old man of his assumptions. “I’m good here.” She said instead, opening the door.

“Missus! That’s dangerous, you might injure yourself!” The old man said as he pressed the brakes of his truck hard that the tires screeched like they were in agony.

She jumped out effortlessly slamming the door, paying no attention to the panicked driver who was muttering something under his breath before he finally drove on.

She watched as the taillights of the truck disappear on the highway. When it was finally gone, it was her cue to move.

She wasn’t visiting a lover. There is no lucky man. No one is going to be happy in her arrival. There will only be pain. There will only be demise.

She will bring darkness in the peaceful city of Theed and she’s not even sorry.

—

“Dr. Solo, we need you back in the hospital.” Ben pinched the bridge of his nose at the sudden call he received.

His hospital duty had been over; way, way over for the last twenty-four hours. He had already extended his stay because of the twin’s operation. Now that he actually has the time to rest, work can’t seem allow him to take a break. Not that he’s complaining, with the thoughts that ran through his head, he surely needed the distraction. But another surgical operation without him being properly rested would be detrimental to everyone, especially to whoever patient who’s calling for him now.

“Can you let Dr. Hux handle it?” He mumbled and sighed, already regretting the words that came out of his mouth. Dr. Armitage Hux was the next best surgeon in the hospital. It would be the most logical move to let Dr. Hux handle everything while he was gone. The only problem is they hate each other’s guts. More importantly, Dr. Solo does not want to owe any favors to that asshole. But what the hell, really? He’s too exhausted to even attempt to take back his words.

“The patient doesn’t need surgery, Dr. Solo.” The person from the other side of the line mumbled politely. “She said she just wants to talk...” the person paused and sighed. “She said she wants to see you before she dies.”

Dr. Benjamin Organa-Solo fell silent. He doesn’t know a lot of people in Theed. He doen’t know a lot of people, period; let alone a person who’s in death’s door. It might have been one of his parents’ acquaintance but no one he seems to remember.

“Dr. Solo?” The woman on the phone said.

“Yes?” He answered suddenly, breaking his thoughts. “May I know who the patient is?” He uttered curiously.

“A Maz Kanata, Doctor.” She replied.

“I see.” Ben said. “I’ll be right there.”

—

Whatever rhyme or reason that brought Ben back to the hospital was lost to him. He doesn’t know this old woman before him. He doesn’t know Maz Kanata.

She was old, a nonagenarian or older, probably. Dr. Solo can only presume based on her features. She was petite, maybe probably less than half his height. The wrinkles on her face were adamant and those big brown eyes looked weary and exhausted.

There wasn’t anything attached to her. No BP monitors, no IV line, no anything. She was just there, with a floral turban wrapped around her head, sitting comfortably underneath the white sheets, as if the hospital was her home. It made things weird, especially when Ben remembered what the head nurse who called him said. She mentioned the woman was dying. She was old, far way advanced, for sure. But she doesn’t look close to dying. Besides, if she was indeed unwell, for sure the nurses would have done something. This was not hospital protocol.

“I’ve waited for a long time for this, Benjamin.” The old woman said with a kind smile. Her eyes, huge, shone brightly as she curled her wrinkled lips upward. It distracted Ben from his thoughts on hospital protocol, not because her eyes were too large for that of a normal person but it was something in the way she looked at him. It was familiar. Too familiar that he didn’t even bother to put into thought that the old woman called him by his first name; a dose of familiarity, a proof, maybe, that they indeed knew each other and that somehow, he just forgotten.

To the best of Ben’s knowledge, however, it was the negative. No matter how much he raked his memories, looking for some semblance of the woman before him, Ben cannot remember. He doesn’t know her. There was something though, he knew all too well even without knowing the old lady. She was from Takodana, the tinge of orange-brown skin color gave it away.

Takodana, an ancient country in the middle part of the earth had stood in witness in almost every war this world had done. Maybe it was its strategic placement in the map, or maybe they were just unlucky. But the battles were nothing more than history for the little country. They stood firm; they stood strong; stronger than any place in this wretched earth. But Takodana was nothing more but rubble now, and its people...

“Operation Varactyls.” Maz Kanata mumbled gently, as if continuing his train of thought.

Ben opened his mouth, but none came out of it. He instantly looked at her with shocked terrified eyes, curling his fists tight until his knuckles turned white. His palms ached as his fingers dug deep in it, but it was nothing compared to the sharp pang of pain he felt in his heart. His chest ached like he was having some form of a heart attack. Slowly, the pain radiated everywhere, until he was numb, until there was nothing left other the excruciating guilt he felt in his whole damned existence.

There was silence after that. Dr. Solo took a small chair and sat near Maz’ bed. He curled his fist tighter and began staring at them; at the hands he convinced himself were used to save lives.

She knew him, he thought. Of course she knew. Maz knew because she was there.

“I-” He hesitantly began.

“You should know that none of it was your fault,” The old woman replied with a weak smile, cutting him off. “Do not be so hard on yourself, young Solo.”

Maz lifted his thin wrinkly arms, placing her hand on his face. She caressed her thumb on his cheek, reassuring him that she was telling the truth. Slowly, her fingers traced a line on Ben’s face. It span from the right side of his forehead, the scar just missing his right eye, until the old woman’s fingers reached the base of his cheek. “Whatever you have done, you should know that it wasn’t your fault.”

Ben crumpled his eyebrows, he may not have noticed it, but he leaned closer at the old woman’s caress; her gentleness and her sympathy towards a person like him, was filling him up like it was that of a motherly touch; a touch which was ready to forgive; to forgive him with all he has done.

Ben got carried away because the old woman before her was kind and forgiving. Maz may, but he knew all too well that he could not forgive himself. “How could you say that?” He croaked, biting back the tears that seem to fill his eyes.

“You were there. How can you possibly say that when you were there?” Ben argued like a distressed child.

“It is the world that is unkind. Not you.” The old woman smiled.

“Your compassion saved us.” Maz continued.

Ben looked at the old woman with so much confusion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about...” He mumbled.

Maz merely answered with a weak smile, she let go of Ben’s face before staring aimlessly at the windows of her room.

“It’s time.” She said weakly, keeping her eyes on the windows.

“Your compassion, whatever this world gives you, no matter what you find, do not lose sight of it.” She said again, this time, the old woman’s eyes widened in panic. “Now, go.” She hissed.

“Leave me be.” Maz Kanata gritted her teeth in terror.

Ben never understood what she meant by his compassion. Neither did he understand why the old woman was suddenly filled with panic and terror. He was set to open his mouth to clarify, but there was a harrowing sound, close to that of an M61 rotary cannon exploding right inside the four corners of Maz Kanata’s hospital room. The blast waves sent him flying from his seat towards the nearest wall. The impact sent his back with a loud thud followed by the sound of glass breaking, crashing and flying towards him.

Dr. Solo’s ears rang; a high pitched tinnitus filling up his brain. He opened his mouth to swallow just to lessen its ringing. He began to check himself for injuries; for shrapnel coming from the fragmentation of whatever explosive device that detonated inside the room. But there was none. With the exception of few cuts from the flying broken glass, there was nothing. Not even the smoke, nor heat or fire that should be expected from an explosive.

He never questioned why for gasped instantly, remembering that he wasn’t alone inside the room. “Maz!” He coughed in utter panic while supporting his whole weight with his hands. His vision blurred as stood up but it did not matter, in seconds he was already running towards the hospital bed where Maz was supposed to be.

“No, child. Don’t!” Maz hissed in panic, but it was too late.

Before he could race further, Ben instantly stopped on his tracks. He gasped in shock for he never did. He didn’t know why but it was as if his brain short circuited. He should be reacting with nothing more but instinct, his neurons firing with all the adrenaline. And yet somehow his body stopped moving.

The doctor groaned in protest. He struggled, commanding his arms to move but it kept still, pinned on his sides like he was constricted by some rope he could never see. He huffed in terror, not for himself, but for the old woman who was helplessly sitting on top of the bed.

“Let him go, child. He has nothing to do with this.” Maz Kanata pleaded.

Ben was too focused on the old woman that he did not notice the third person in the room. He thought it was a shadow, his eyes playing tricks on him as an effect of the sudden explosion. But there he is, a figure clad in black, his back turned to Ben but his arm extended towards him; his fingers curling grotesquely underneath his black gloves. He wanted to see him. He wanted to know who he was dealing with. But there was nothing but his back filled with dark layered clothes and a cowl on top of his head.

“No witnesses.” The person clad in black uttered, his voice, mechanical and distorted for some reason.

He pulled his fingers closer towards his palm. It made Ben screamed in pain as the invisible ropes surrounding his body tightened. It was, somehow, cutting him into pieces.

And then he felt it, this person’s bloodlust. He knew because he had felt this before. That hunger to kill; that desire for death; it radiated inside the room, it crept in his veins, it latched onto his bones; it was eating away his whole being. Whoever he was, he knew he was going to kill them both.

“I’m the one you want, so let him go.” The old woman pleaded, already bargaining for Ben’s life.

“No.” Ben mumbled helplessly as he struggled to bring himself free. But he couldn’t, not even his brute force managed to pull those invisible strings away. He grunted, cussing under his breath.

“As you wish.” The person clad in black said as he instantly released Ben.

The doctor fell on the ground, his cheek skidding on the cold hard tiled floor. He coughed and huffed, gathering himself. He forced himself to move, but it would seem like all of his body parts were in atrophy. Ben cussed once again, he was not letting any person die in this hospital. Not on his watch. So he grunted, sweat filling up his brow as he struggled to curl his palm into a fist.

“Move.” He commanded on his own body. But he didn’t. Then, there was that force again, like a thousand pound invisible weight on top of his body. It kept him still, pinned on the floor. He tried to squirm; he tried to roll over, but nothing. Everything was futile.

“No need for further blood in your hands, honey.” Maz calmly said to the person in black. Ben could not see it from the floor, but he saw Maz take out something from underneath her blanket.

It was the first time the shadow in black moved. He took a step back, surprised at what Maz brought out. “You fucking coward!” He screamed in fury that Ben felt the room shake with his rage.

“Maz!” Ben screamed in desperation. Suddenly, the old woman was lifted in the air, inches away from her bed. She was struggling, clawing her hands at her own throat, trying to remove that same invisible constriction that Ben could not see. He darted his eyes on their attacker -- that same gloved fingers curling fast to finish the woman once and for all.

“I will not let you!” The person screamed with all of his rage. His anger was uncontrolled, his fury raw and untamed. It made him out of focus that his invisible restraints on Ben began to disappear. And the doctor took that chance. With all his energy, he charged forward, tackling down the person in black from behind.

The man screamed to get loose, but Ben locked his thighs on his waist tight. He deliberately sat on his back, grabbing his both arms towards his back and pinning it with one of his hands. Using his other hand, Ben held the back of his head, instantly slamming the man’s face towards the ground. A loud clang echoed throughout the room, revealing a matte black iron mask.

He groaned, the distortion on his voice fading as small sparks flew from the front of his mask. He moaned once more in pain and Ben froze. He froze because he realized that it wasn’t a man at all. She was a woman -- those frail arms that he held so tight behind her back; her thin waist that he pinned hard on his thighs.

It was stupid for him not to realize instantly, but even more stupid that he forgot that she was there for the kill.

That lapse of judgment was detrimental for Ben, for in a matter of seconds, the woman was able to tackle him back. Suddenly, she was on top of him, pinning down her thighs on his waist.

Ben groaned in agony as if his ribs were being crushed by her weight. This thin woman felt like she weighed a fucking metric ton. He knew though that it wasn’t just her. It was that invisible force again that she was using against him. Simultaneously, she took something from behind her back, a long bladed weapon; something ancient; one that he has never seen before. She twirled it in her hand before gripping it tightly, readying to impale him; to stab him right through his throat.

Ben closed his eyes, swallowing hard as he waited for the pain to consume him. But there was nothing, which was, based on his experience, wrong. He bat his eyelids to open and she was gone.

—

The events that transpired soon after were a blur. Everyone in the hospital was in panic. They heard it too, that loud explosion that blasted through the room. And in the course of such explosion, there was one fatality.

The investigation stayed like that for some reason. Somehow, everyone, even the police was convinced that Maz Kanata’s cause of death was the explosion of a faulty heart rate monitor that short circuited.

Dr. Solo did not say much though. He tried to, but they said he was just in a state of shock, attributing the figure clad in black as an aftershock.

He dug his teeth on his bottom lip. He knew what he saw. He knew it wasn’t some form of trauma. He felt her; he fought her.

She did this, he knows it. For whatever rhyme or reason, she convinced these people that his injuries and Maz’ death was caused by a something as stupid as an exploding heart rate monitor.

And Maz Kanata? Maz did not die of that bullshit explosion. That thing she brought out during that altercation with the woman in black, it was poison. Potent and deadly; by the time the female assailant left, it was already too late. Maz was already dead.


End file.
